God Mend These Broken Wings
by soyxunxperdedor
Summary: A rewrite starting from Swan Song and branching out into season six.  Sam's last wish was only for Dean to do whatever it takes to be happy.  Eventual Destiel.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Ok, so I'm finally doing it, finally writing a chaptered fic. And here, for your pleasure, is chapter one. If you read this, please tell me what you think, what you like and what you didn't like, because this is basically a preview of sorts, and even this chapter can be considered a WIP. So seriously, any kind of criticism is welcome.**

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><p>"<em>Carry on my wayward son,<em>

_There'll be peace when you are done,_

_Lay your weary head to rest,_

_Don't you cry no more…"_

Dean glanced in his review mirror. It was strange to see Cas asleep in the back. But then again, what about this night wasn't strange? "Aw, ain't he a little angel?" he heard himself say.

Sam glanced in the backseat. "Angels don't sleep," he said blankly.

Dean let a moment pass before switching subjects. "Sam, I got a bad feeling about this."

"Well, you'd be nuts to have a good feeling about it."

Dean scowled. "You know what I mean. Detroit. He always said he'd jump your bones in Detroit. Here we are. Maybe this is him rolling out the red carpet, you know? Maybe he knows something that we don't."

Sam snorted lightly. "Dean, I'm sure he knows a buttload we don't. We just got to hope he doesn't know about the rings. Hey, um... on the subject, there's something I got to talk to you about."

Dean gritted his teeth. He would rather pull his own teeth out with pliers. But instead of doing that he asked, "What?"

"This thing goes our way and I...Triple lindy into that box... Y-you know I'm not coming back."

He clenched his jaw impossibly tighter, pain shooting through all the nerves in his mouth but he ignored them. "Yeah, I'm aware," he managed to say.

"So you got to promise me something," Sam continued.

"Ok, yeah. Anything."

"You got to promise not to try to bring me back," Sam said in a rush, like if he didn't throw the words out they'd stay inside him, and Dean sure as hell wished they had.

"What? No! I didn't sign up for that!"

"Dean-" Sam tried to interject, but Dean wasn't having any of that.

"Your hell is gonna make my tour look like _Graceland_. You want me to just sit by and do nothing?" Dean demanded, glancing at Sam incredulously.

"Once the cage is shut you can't go poking at it Dean. It's too risky," Sam said matter-of-factly.

"No, no, no, no, no. As if I'm just gonna let you rot in there," he argued. Sam couldn't think that Dean would just leave him in Hell.

"Yeah, you are. You don't have a choice," Sam said, this time sounding apologetic. He knew how his words must be killing Dean, but he had to say them anyway.

"You can't ask me to do this."

"I'm sorry Dean," Sam said, and Dean glanced at him. He could see the truth in Sam's eyes, that he was scared, and he'd give anything for his big brother to rescue him. But he could see the stubborn set in Sam's jaw, and he knew Sam would never let his fear get the best of him. "You have to," Sam added softly.

Dean licked his lips and stared out the windshield. "So then what am I supposed to do?"

Sam takes a moment to organize his thoughts. He wants to tell Dean to buy a house with Cas, maybe adopt some kids somewhere down the line. But he knows his brother would never accept that, he's not ready to admit anything even to himself. Sam desperately wishes he would be around long enough for Dean to admit his feelings for the angel, well ex-angel now, to see them get together and be happy. But he's not going to be.

"You're supposed to be happy. Buy a house. Get one in Sioux Falls so Bobby's close. Maybe eventually settle down with a nice girl, or guy," he added, indicating his brother's less than linear sexual interests. He'd never understood why Dean hadn't gotten with Cas when he clearly had no problem sleeping with guys. Maybe it was because there were emotions in there. "You do whatever it takes to be happy Dean. And quit hunting. You go live some normal, apple pie life. Dean. Promise me."

"You want me to quit hunting?" Dean asked him.

"You'll never be happy if you're still hunting."

"Sammy, I was made for hunting."

Sam shook his head sadly. "No Dean, hunting made you."

Dean didn't say anything for a while, and the brothers road in silence, the only sound between them were Cas's soft snores. But then Dean spoke, his voice low and serious. "Ok Sam. I promise."

XXX

It seems unnaturally cold in Detroit, but Dean thinks his mind is probably just playing tricks on him.

"Demons. At least two dozen of them. You were right, something's up," Bobby is saying as he looks towards the building Lucifer is most likely in.

"More than something. He's here. I know it," Dean said as he moved to open the impala's trunk. He didn't like the idea of Sam sucking down all that demon juice, but he didn't like the idea of anything that was about to happen.

Sam walked over to Bobby. "I'll see ya around, kid," Bobby said, trying to put on a brave face.

"See ya around," Sam replied, pulling the old man into a hug.

"He gets in... You fight him tooth and nail, you understand? Keep swingin'. Don't give an inch," Bobby said close to his ear, his voice sounding dangerously close to tears. Sam wanted to tell him everything, to thank him for being the father they'd never really had, but if he started he'd never stop, so he released Bobby.

"Yes, sir," he said with a nod before going over to Cas.

"Cas," he said quietly, the words only for him. "You gotta look after Dean, ok? Protect him."

Cas looked at him sadly. "Sam, I'm human, I can barely protect myself."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Just watch out for him. Protect him from himself. He's going to need someone after I'm gone, you gotta be that person, ok?"

Cas stared at him solemnly. "Of course, Sam."

Sam smiled sadly. "Thanks," he said before going over to Dean and the impala. He looked at the jugs of blood with distaste. "You mind not watching this?" he asked Dean.

Dean stood there looking at him for a long moment before finally saying "Ok," and going to stand with Bobby and Cas.

XXX

"Sorry if it's a bit chilly," Lucifer said. Sam and Dean had entered Lucifer's hidey-hole, and demons had practically been waiting to escort them to the big man himself. "Most people think I burn hot. It's actually quite the opposite."

"We'll alert the media," Dean quipped.

"Help me understand something, guys. I mean, stomping through my front door is...a tad suicidal, don't you think?"

"We're not here to fight you," Sam said, taking a step forward.

"No?" Lucifer asked with a tilt of his head. "Then why are you here?"

Sam took a deep breath. "I want to say yes."

Lucifer raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Excuse me?"

Sam closed his eyes and the demons standing behind Lucifer seemed to suffer implosions. Lucifer's expression changed. "Chock full of oval tine are we?"

Sam ignored his sarcasm. "You heard me. Yes."

Lucifer studied him for a moment while Dean hung back. "You're serious," he said, a flat note of surprise in his tone.

"Look, judgment day's a runaway train. We get it now. We just want off," Sam said matter-of-factly.

"Meaning?"

"Deal of the century. I give you a free ride, but when it's all over, I live, he lives, you bring our parents back-" Sam began.

"Okay, can we please drop the telenovela? I know you have the rings, Sam," Lucifer said calmly.

Dean's eyes widened. That was their only plan, straight down the drain.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Sam lied unconvincingly.

"The horsemen's rings? The magic keys to my cage? Ring a bell? Come on, Sam. I've never lied to you. You could at least pay me the same respect. It's okay. I'm not mad. A wrestling match inside your noggin... I like the idea. Just you and me, one round, no tricks. You win, you jump in the hole. I win... Well, then I win," Lucifer said smugly. "What do you say, Sam? A fiddle of gold against your soul says I'm better than you," he teased.

"So he knows," Sam said with a shrug. "Doesn't change anything."

"Sam," Dean started.

"We don't have any other choice."

"No," Dean breathed, but Sam continued like he hadn't even heard him.

"Yes," Sam said, his voice strong and unwavering. Lucifer closed his eyes and a bright light emanated from him, blinding Dean. When the light faded Sam and Lucifer were on the floor, both appeared to be unconscious although he supposed Lucifer's previous vessel was just dead.

Dean didn't waste any time. He pulled the Horsemen's rings from his pocket, flinging them at a blank wall. They stuck like they were magnets on a fridge. He held his hand out towards them, beginning the chant. "Bvtmon...Tabges...Babalon." The wall sucked in like it was under a tremendous amount of pressure, revealing a gaping black hole.

Sam began to stir and Dean turned to him. "Sammy!" he called, rushing to his side to help him stand.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, his face scrunched up in concentration. "I can feel him! Oh God!"

"You got to go now!" Dean yelled over the roar coming from the hole. "Come on! Go now, Sammy, go now!"

Sam nodded and let go of Dean, stepping towards the hole. Dean watched his back, unable to tear his eyes away from his baby brother, about to walk into the mouth of hell. Sam stopped a few feet short. He turned back to Dean, a cold expression on his face. "I was just messing with you. Sammy's long gone," he said in a voice that wasn't Sammy's voice at all. Dean recognized it from the future, when he'd talked to Lucifer in that garden. While Dean was processing this Sam, no, Lucifer looked at the wall and said the invocation to close it. He turned back to Dean, the Horsemen rings in his hand.

"I told you," he said, almost apologetically. "This would always happen in Detroit."

And then he was gone.

XXX

"It's starting," Cas says bleakly as they stand outside an electronics store. The TVs in the window are all playing the news, and the news is as bleak as Cas's tone. The globe has been rocked, quite literally, by earthquakes.

"Yeah, ya think, genius?" Bobby retorted.

Cas frowned at the older hunter. "You don't have to be mean."

They listened as another earthquake was reported. "What do we do now?" Dean asked flatly.

Cas slid his gaze to Dean. "I suggest we imbibe copious quantities of alcohol... Just wait for the inevitable blast wave."

Dean pursed his lips. "Swell. Thank you, bukowski. I mean, how do we stop it?"

"We don't. Lucifer will meet Michael on the chosen field. And the battle of Armageddon begins."

"Ok," Dean said, a plan formulating in his head. "Well, where's this chosen field?"

"I don't know," Cas said honestly.

"Well there's got to be something that we can do."

"I'm sorry Dean. This is over."

Dean mulled that over for a moment. "No it's not," he eventually said, his voice soft.

Cas narrowed his eyes at Dean. "It is. Lucifer has his true vessel, Michael has a vessel that's, well, it's not true but it's good enough-"

Dean shook his head. "Michael's vessel can't be good enough, because Michael's vessel isn't me. The Michael Sword and Lucifer's vessel are supposed to be from the same bloodline, right?" Cas nodded. "The bloodlines of the Winchesters and the Campbells. Sam's both. Adam's not, he's just a Winchester."

"What are you getting at?" Cas growled, stepping up and into Dean's face.

"I have to get Michael to take me," Dean answered, not backing down.

A few feet away Bobby swore loudly. "Dean, what the hell is the matter with you? I know you feel like all is lost, but we've already been down this road! He don't want you no more!"

Dean set his jaw. "He will when I explain to him that Adam's not good enough. Not strong enough to take on Lucifer."

Cas glared at him, his blue eyes shining bright with anger. "And just when I thought you weren't a coward."

Dean returned his glare. "You think I'm a coward?" He shook his head. "No, Cas, I'm not a coward. If I were a coward I'd go bury my head in the sand, let Adam and Sam play vessel by themselves as the world ended around me. I'm no coward."

"So this isn't a convoluted suicide attempt?" Cas shot back.

Dean blinked, surprised. Because, in a way, it was. "I ain't gonna let Sam die alone. And if I can at least save Adam? Well, I'll consider it a job well done."

Dean could see the fury barely contained in Cas's eyes. "You are so _ignorant_. Do you think Sam would want that? Do you think Bobby wants that? That I-" he cut himself off, swallowing thickly, as if to contain his tears. "You're a stupid sonofabitch is what you are," he finally growled after he'd composed himself.

"You're not going to change your mind, are you son?" Bobby asked sadly. He looked much older than he should in that moment, and Dean realized he could mark today as the day he lost both his sons. Maybe Cas could gradually take his and Sam's places, he'd need someone as much as Bobby did.

He shook his head. "No, Bobby, I'm not. Listen… Can you give me a minute with Cas?"

Bobby looked like he was going to object, but then he nodded and stalked off in the direction of his truck.

Dean turned to face Cas. "Cas-"

"How can you do this?" Cas interrupted him.

Dean shrugged. "I can't do this without Sam."

Cas stared at him, his gaze icy. "And I can't do this without you," he said softly, his tone contradicting his eyes.

Dean licked his lips. "There's no way you can go home, is there?" he asked, his tone matching Cas's.

"When you rebel in the name of a human over and over again, you seal your own fate," Cas answered.

"You can't, I don't know, pray for forgiveness or something?" Dean asked, knowing how lame he sounded.

Cas smiled bitterly. "I would have to regret my actions to ask for forgiveness. I would go down this path a thousand times, even if I knew we would fail I would still rebel in your name, Dean. Even if I wanted to ask for forgiveness, which I don't, I wouldn't be granted it."

"Cas… I'll never understand why you've done all of this for us. But I want to thank you."

"Dean, you don't have to thank me. You've shown me that these were the right actions. I'm the one who should be thanking you."

Dean ran a hand through his hair, uncomfortable with the sentimental scene. "Listen, if all goes right, I'm going to free Adam. I want you to take care of him, ok? Watch out for him. If the world doesn't actually go up in smoke, don't let him be a hunter."

Cas smiled wryly. "Sam asked me to take care of you before he left."

"Yeah, well, that was an impossible job from the jump. Adam's not me though. So protect him."

Cas was solemn. "I'll protect him with my life."

Dean belatedly realized he wanted to kiss Cas goodbye. It was a ridiculous want, and selfish, because he knew if he gave in to that desire neither of them would let go. So he pushed it from his mind, fishing the keys to the impala out of his pocket. He tossed them to Cas, who caught them, surprise clearly written on his face.

"Dean, no."

"I want you to have her. You and Bobby just wait around town for a while, I'll have Michael send Adam your way, he can drive her back. Bobby can teach you how to drive."

Cas looked down at the keys in his hand. "Dean… I just want you to be aware that if you do this… The only thing you're going to see is your own hands killing your brother."

Dean stuffed his hands in his pockets, scuffing his boot against the ground. "My Dad once told me if I couldn't save Sam I'd have to kill him," he gazed into Cas's eyes. "Well I didn't save him. So that only leaves one option."

XXX

Dean grimaced as it began to rain lightly on him. He hunched his shoulders and stuffed his hands in his pockets as he walked down the dark and deserted street. He came to a sheltered bus stop that he deemed good enough for the grand 'giving up' he had planned.

But for a moment, he sits on the bench, and he gives a little time to himself. It's a concept he's unfamiliar with, and it's like an itch under his skin. He runs a rough palm over his face, a heaviness in his chest. He'd give anything if only it hadn't come to this. But it did. He sighed and rested his elbows on his knees, his hands dangling uselessly between his legs.

"Michael," he said, his voice calm and even. He didn't shout, he only said the name as if Michael were sitting on the bench with him. He knew the archangel could hear him. "Listen. I know you think you're all set with Adam, but you're not. You need me, not him, he's only half the bloodline you guys worked so hard to get."

There wasn't a telltale rustle of wings like when Cas would pop in. One minute Dean was on the bench, alone, and the next Michael was sitting next to him. "I assumed you would be pleased. You avoided becoming my vessel, after all."

Dean licked his lips. "Yeah, because you took my little brother."

Michael smirked at him. "Dean, you don't him from, well, Adam. You can lie to yourself all you want but we both know this isn't about Adam."

"You're right," Dean all but snapped. "It's about Sam. Adam's just a bonus." Dean took a deep breath. "You know I'm right. I know you already know all the reasons I'm the better vessel. So can we just do this already?"

Michael stared at him coldly, and even though it should unnerve him Dean just stared back. Finally, Michael spoke. "What are your demands?"

Dean blinked, surprised. Sure, he had a few, but he hadn't expected Michael to just ask for them. "Adam walks. When you jump in, I get a few minutes to talk to him, just to give him some instructions. Sammy and I get nice, comfy spots in heaven when it's all over with."

Michael seemed to consider Dean's demands for a moment before nodding. "I believe those are fair terms. I need to hear the magic word though, Dean."

Dean didn't hesitate. "Yes," he said calmly.

It was different then he expected it to be. He expected it to feel like an invasion of some kind, like the worst of Alastair's tortures in Hell, but it wasn't. It was just that one moment he was just Dean, and the next he was Dean and Michael, two entities occupying one body. He blinked and he found that he had control over his body, for now anyway. Michael had made good on his promise.

"Dean? What the hell is going on?" someone asked and Dean directed his gaze to Adam, sitting where Michael had left him.

"I got Michael to take me instead of you. Listen, I don't have much time." He hooked his thumb over his shoulder. "A couple of blocks from here you're gonna find Cas and Bobby waiting for you, you remember them, right?" Adam nodded slowly, still clearly confused. "Good. You're gonna have to stay with Bobby for a while. You can't go home, because you suddenly showing up after being a missing person's case is going to be suspicious, and they'll think you had something to do with your Mom's disappearance too."

Adam stared at him, searching his face. "Dean, I don't understand, you were free?"

Dean's gaze softened. "You had no business getting dragged into this. Letting you stay in it would've been wrong."

"He's in you now, isn't he?"

Dean nodded. "Go on," he said, nodding his head in the direction he'd pointed. "Cas'll look out for you."

Adam stood and Dean did too. "Thank you Dean," Adam said, unexpectedly crushing him into a hug.

Dean shrugged, forcing the tears out of his eyes. "Big brothers are supposed to protect their little brothers."

Adam didn't say anything else, probably couldn't, so he just smiled sadly and turned and walked away.

As Dean watched him go there was a tickle in his brain. _Finished?_ The word wasn't spoken so much as slipped into his thoughts.

He nodded. "I'm finished."

And then Michael took over.

XXX

Dean wasn't exactly tucked away inside a dark room in Michael's subconscious. He was still there, he could see and feel everything that Michael did, he just couldn't control any of it. It was like a lucid dream, he knew he was dreaming but he couldn't wake up.

He sort of had a body of his own. At least, he perceived that he did. He was truly formless, but he could feel the phantom itch of his body.

Time was flowing differently than it did when Dean was just Dean. He didn't completely understand it but it was sort of like the moments in which Michael wasn't needed just didn't exist for him.

Which is how Dean found himself at Stull Cemetery in Kansas less than five minutes after he'd been talking to Adam. Or, at least it seemed like five minutes, he knew it was actually the next day.

His heart clenched painfully in his chest when he saw Sam. _It's not your brother, Dean_. Michael assured him. Dean perceived a frown. _Yes it is. Sammy's in there_. For a moment he felt a flash of something, sympathy, maybe?, shoot through Michael but it was gone as fast as it had appeared.

"It's good to see you Michael," Lucifer said. "Although I'm surprised to see you're in this one after all."

"That was the Plan, brother." Michael looked around. "Can you believe it's finally here?"

"No, not really," was Lucifer's reply.

"Are you ready?" Michael asked him.

"As I'll ever be." Lucifer looked at Michael closely. "A part of me wishes we didn't have to do this," he confessed.

"Yeah. Me too," Michael replied, and Dean could feel the truth in Michael's words. Michael wanted to kill Lucifer about as much as Dean wanted to kill Sam. Both left with a father's plan to kill their own blood. Dean felt for him, much as he didn't want to. He could relate. _I don't need your pity_ Michael hissed at him. _Then look again, angel boy, because that wasn't pity_, Dean responded sadly.

"Then why are we?" Lucifer was saying.

"You know why! I have no choice after what you did!" Michael shouted. Dean could sense him trying to believe his own words.

"What I did? What if it's not my fault?"

Dean could feel the surprise and anger flash through Michael. "What is that supposed to mean?" he growled.

"Think about it. Dad made everything. Which means he made me who I am! God wanted the devil."

"So?" Michael shot back.

"So why? And why make us fight? I just can't figure out the point." Dean's heart ached at Lucifer's words, everything was ringing so true to his own story. "We're going to kill each other," he continued. "And for what? One of Dad's tests? And we don't even know the answer. We're brothers. Let's just walk off the chessboard."

Dean could feel the way Michael was swayed by Lucifer's words. Michael desperately wanted to do what Lucifer was asking, but he wasn't going to let himself. He had to follow the Plan. "I'm sorry. I-I can't. I'm a good son, and I have my orders." _Take it from one Good Son to another, nothing good ever came of following Dad's orders,_ Dean offered. _I didn't ask for your opinion_, Michael growled.

"But you don't have to follow them," Lucifer said, as close to begging as Dean would bet he'd get.

"What, you think I'm gonna rebel? _Now_? I'm not like you."

"Please, Michael-"

"You know, you haven't changed a bit, little brother," Michael cut in, the steely resolve back in his voice. "Always blaming everybody but yourself. We were together. We were happy. But you betrayed me," the pain in Michael's voice reminded Dean uncomfortably of when Sam had betrayed him, when he'd chosen that demon bitch Ruby over his own brother. "All of us, and you made our Father leave."

"No one makes Dad do anything," Lucifer growled, righteous fury blazing in his eyes. "_He_ is doing this to _us._"

"You're a monster, Lucifer. And I have to kill you." Michael's voice was flat and emotionless when he said those words, and Dean could feel a chill creeping up his spine.

"If that's the way it's got to be," Lucifer replied, his voice as dead as Michael's. "Then I'd like to see you try."

Suddenly there was an angel sword in Michael's hand, but it was unlike any Dean had seen before. It was an actual sword, for starters, long and deadly, and it was on fire. Holy fire, Dean imagined.

There was a perfect match for it in Lucifer's hand. The flames licked at their hands but apparently they couldn't burn their owners. Dean didn't have long to study Lucifer's sword because suddenly he was nowhere in sight. Michael apparently knew the score though, because he spun around, his sword already upraised to fend off the blow. The sharp blade would've sliced clean through his neck if he hadn't.

This close, Dean could see into Lucifer's eyes clearly, but he couldn't see Sammy like he'd hoped he could. He desperately wished he could close his eyes to this fight, to just cease existing now, and wake up in heaven with Sammy when it was over. Instead he was like Mel Gibson in Conspiracy Theory, his eyes held open as things he'd rather not see played out before him.

Michael slid his sword away from Lucifer's, spinning and shoving the hilt backwards into Lucifer's stomach, knocking the breath from him. Michael danced away before Lucifer could catch his breath, and they stood, glaring at each other.

Lucifer grinned wickedly. "Why don't we cut the crap and start playing for keeps?"

Michael roared, an angry, animal sound as he lunged at him. They moved rapidly, too fast for Dean to keep up with everything as they struck, parrying blows and sending more each other's way, the sounds of their swords clanging together ringing in the still morning air. Dean was sure their swords would be spraying sparks with the force they were hitting each other, if they weren't already flaming.

"It's not too late, brother," Lucifer grunted.

"It's far too late," Michael retorted. Dean could feel the bone-chilling _ache _flowing through Michael, the way he loved Lucifer with every fiber of his being. _Then why do you insist on fighting this battle_? Dean asked him, but he got no answer. He thought about chalking it up to Michael concentrating on the battle, but he knew Michael didn't have an answer for him.

It was while Dean was working through those thoughts that it had happened. Lucifer didn't block a blow fast enough, and maybe he'd meant to let the strike come through. But either way Michael's sword slid through him like he was butter.

Dean wasn't sure whose horror he was feeling, Michael's or his own. Distantly, he was aware that Michael had never thought it would actually happen, even in the midst of the fight he had never truly intended to kill Lucifer. Dean could only stare at the blood sliding down Michael's blade and onto his fingers. Sam's blood on his hands. Simultaneously he and Michael both looked up into their brother's eyes, mouth agape with shock.

"I'm so sorry little brother," Dean's mouth said, and he couldn't honestly say which of them had spoken.

There was blood leaking from the corner of Lucifer's mouth, blood that was entirely Sam's because angels didn't have blood to bleed. "It's ok," he said, smiling softly, and there was something in his eyes, and Dean knew the words were Sam's. Or maybe, like with his and Michael's apology, it was from both of them. "I forgive you big brother," he whispered.

Michael pulled the sword out and Sam/Lucifer fell to his knees. His hand fluttered uselessly to the gaping wound in his chest, seconds before Lucifer's Grace exploded from him in a wash of white light. Dean didn't have to cover his eyes, protected by Michael's Grace.

There were two scorched wings on either side of Sam's body, larger than any he had ever seen before. Again, he and Michael moved as one, dropping to Sam's side. Dean longed to call out Sam's name, even though he knew his brother was gone. He wanted to scream and cry and pound his fist into something until every bone in his hand was a shattered fragment, but Michael was in charge, and he just rested on his knees beside his brother's vessel.

"Dean," Michael began, speaking aloud.

_Save it. I know you're looking for forgiveness from me, but you're never going to get it. You killed both our brothers in one fell swoop, and I don't give a damn that you're hurting, that you didn't want to. Because you could've put a stop to it, you could've said to hell with your Dad's plan. I did!_

"But it was written!"

_Yeah? And who gives a damn what is written when your perfect Father isn't even around to enforce his own Plan?_

Michael was silent for a long time. "I'm sorry," he finally said. Dean was silent, waiting. "I'll take my leave from you now."

Dean imagined his blood running cold. _You'll do what now?_

"I'll leave you. You can go on with your life."

_What? No! What about the apocalypse? What about me being with Sammy in heaven?_

Dean felt Michael curl his lips into a smile. "I held up my end. I killed Lucifer. As for the rest of the apocalypse? It can go screw itself, I'm not interested in it. Which means it won't happen. You and the rest of the human race are safe. You should be happy about that. As for seeing Sam in heaven, I told you that would happen and it will. Once your human life ends you will be reunited with him in heaven."

_Michael, no, you can't leave me here like this without him, I can't do it, just take me, please, just kill me. _Dean had the illusion of sobbing, it felt like he was but his physical face remained calm, as Michael was still at the wheel. _Please you can't leave me here without Sammy, please just end this pain, he's the only thing I have, I can't live without him. Please_, he begged brokenly.

Michael didn't respond for a long time, just stared quietly down at Sam's face. No, he wasn't staring at Sam's face, he was looking just past it, to where the ash wings began on the ground.

"You're not as alone as you think, Dean. You'll thank me for this one day," he said, and then he was gone. There was no showy flash of light, no chorus of angels singing, he left Dean like he had come to him, there one minute and gone the next.

And that left only Dean. He scooped Sam's lifeless body into his arms, holding him to his chest tightly. "I'm so sorry Sammy," he said over and over as sobs rocked his body. Soon the words were nothing but senseless noises as he cried.

He remembered the other time Sam had died, after that Jake guy had stabbed him. Dean had only wanted to do one of two things, either sell his soul to bring him back or put a gun in his mouth and kiss the world goodbye. But he couldn't do either of those things now.

He had promised Sam. He'd promised him he wouldn't try to bring him back, and he'd promised him he would try to be happy.

And he couldn't break a promise to Sam.

XXX

"Are you sure Stull's the cemetery Chuck said?" Bobby asked for the thousandth time as the iron framework sign came into view.

Cas glared at the old hunter. "I may no longer be an angel, but I can still hear. Yes, Stull Cemetery."

Adam sat quietly slumped in the back of the '71 Chevelle, as he had for most of the ride, but he sat up as they drove under the arch. Bobby drove straight through the cemetery, going slowly as they all looked out their respective windows, searching for signs of the archangels or the Winchesters.

Bobby spotted Dean first. "Oh no," he said, his voice low with dread. He threw the car into park and got out, but he didn't need to go any further to see what had happened, to hear Dean's heart-breaking sobs. He could see the kid's shoulders shaking with the force of them, and he took his hat off. He felt his own heart break as he gazed at the mess of shaggy brown hair and the long, gangly legs, the only parts visible of Sam as Dean held his body to him.

Adam and Cas came to stand on either side of him. "They did it," Adam whispered, although his volume didn't matter, Dean wouldn't hear anything with this much grief crushing him. "They saved the world."

Bobby felt a tear slide down his face. "I almost wish they hadn't," he replied.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Sorry it took me so long, it's hard for me to write with a deadline. Not that I have one exactly, but I've gotten reviews about people wanting more and it made me nervous, I guess, so... And now I'm rambling. Anyway, this clocks in at just under 3k, and I think all chapters other than the 1st are going to be around 3k. Without giving a lot away I will say that during the course of this fic, there will be characters from the past, and elements from season 6. But only the good ones, not the bad. Thank you to everyone who favorited, reviewed, and subscribed to this :)**

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><p><strong>One Month Later<strong>

Dean stuffed his two dollar tip into the pocket of his busboy's apron without complaint. He was lucky the old couple had left anything, he hadn't exactly been the best waiter in the world, and he knew it.

He didn't bother to fake smiles like the other waiters and waitresses did, he knew it would only come out as a grimace. He managed not to sound like too big a dick when he took their orders, or came around to check for refills. All in all, he figured he was lucky to get anything.

He haphazardly dropped their dirty dishes into his busboy's tray with a sigh, glancing at the clock as he strode towards the kitchen. He stopped when he realized he should've clocked out fifteen minutes ago. Time moves strangely for him sometimes when he's waiting tables. He gets lost in the tedious work, which he supposes is good because it keeps him from thinking.

"You're still here?" his boss, April, asks him with a concerned wrinkle on her forehead. Dean knows she worries about him, and he doesn't blame her. These days he's not exactly the most fun guy to be around.

"Yeah, lost track of time," he said with a forced half smile. He makes an effort to be nice to April. He knows she probably already thinks of him as an extension of her family, as another one of her sons, even though he's only been working at the cleverly named April's Diner for two and a half weeks. Three days in she'd saved him the last piece of her famous cherry pie, and she'd instantly been added to the very short list of people too nice to fuck with.

April studied him for a moment. "Here, let me fix you a box to go before you leave," she said, already moving to grab a Styrofoam container.

"Aw, c'mon April, you don't gotta do that," he argued, although he knew it was a moot point, and he'd be going home with food no matter what.

"I know I don't have to, but I am anyway," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

"Thanks April, you're the best," he said, actually meaning the words as he said them.

"I am, and don't you forget it," she said with a smile as she began filling the box.

XXX

Ten minutes and two containers later, one for his meal and another for a hefty piece of hot apple pie, Dean was in his recently acquired '92 ford tempo and heading towards his tiny apartment. The tempo had come from Bobby's salvage yard, and it was one of the few things that ran. He'd rented the apartment about two days before he got the job at April's Diner, using at least half the cash he had stuffed in his duffel from various hustled games of pool for rent and used furniture. The waitressing gig wasn't his only job, he also bartended on the weekends, and helped out at a small garage when they were shorthanded.

Dean pulled up at his ratty apartment building, grimacing at it's looming exterior. He was convinced it was infested with rats, but so far it seemed to be completely empty of ghosts, so it was good enough for him. He grabbed his food and slipped into the stairwell. He breathed a sigh of relief that none of his neighbors were in it, he'd been able to avoid them so far, and he planned to keep doing it. He didn't bother to check his mail box, there wouldn't be anything in it.

His apartment was tiny. It had a small bathroom, a single bedroom, and a slightly larger open space that housed both kitchen appliances and room for a couch, chair, and television, all of which were second hand. None of his furniture matched, and he'd lifted some cinderblocks from Bobby to use as a tv stand. His bedroom was potentially worse. He had a dresser with a missing bottom drawer, and a mattress just resting on the floor.

Dean pulled his phone out of his pocket before dropping down onto his couch, food in hand. He flipped it open, not really expecting anything, but he blinked in surprise when he saw he had a missed call and a voicemail. He checked the missed call first, knowing that's who the message was from. The caller ID read 'Cas.' Swallowing thickly Dean deleted the message without listening to it. He opened the foam container and stared down at food he wasn't entirely sure he had an appetite for anymore.

XXX

Cas sat at Bobby's desk, glaring at the phones on the wall, willing one to ring. He was bored, and that didn't sit well with him. He'd been an angel of the lord, they didn't get bored.

If Cas was being honest with himself, and since he learned how to be human from Dean, he wasn't, he'd admit to feeling useless. His only jobs were phone answering and research, but no one was calling and there was nothing to look up.

He sighed and then almost laughed at the frivolous nature of the act. He drummed his fingers on the desk for a moment before getting up and going outside. As soon as he opened the door he was met with the sound of arguing.

"C'mon Bobby, we both know I need to know how to protect myself!" Adam was yelling.

"I agree, but I ain't teaching you. You either get Dean to agree and teach you himself or you don't get taught," Bobby replied.

They were arguing about hunting again. Adam wanted to hunt, but he knew he wouldn't survive without being taught a thing or two, and Bobby refused on the grounds that it was his brother's job and Dean didn't want him to live that life anyway. They'd been at that Mexican standoff for the past month, but neither seemed willing to back down.

"Cas, tell him I need to learn to defend myself!"

Cas's eyes widened as he looked between the two. "I believe you should learn to defend yourself, _yes_, but I don't think you should hunt," he said carefully.

Adam scowled at him. "You're just saying that because _Dean _doesn't want me to hunt," he snapped before stalking inside, slamming the door behind him.

Bobby rolled his eyes at the closed door. "I got no doubts that that boy is a Winchester," he grumbled, turning back to the car he was working on. Cas had been surprised to learn that Bobby actually worked on the cars surrounding his house, he'd always assumed they were just an elaborate cover for hunting.

"He is very strong willed," Cas agreed solemnly. Adam's words rang in his head and he wondered how true they were. After all, Dean had charged him with watching over Adam, and while they were both assuming Dean didn't have long to live at the time, Cas couldn't break his word. But was there more than that?

As he shook the thoughts from his head his hand smoothed over his jean's pocket, where he could feel his phone tucked away. He ached to pull it from his pocket, to check to see if Dean had called him back, but he knew he hadn't, knew he probably wouldn't.

The movement didn't go unnoticed by Bobby. "He ain't called you back, has he?" he asked, his voice almost uncharacteristically soft.

Cas pursed his lips. "He's probably busy working," he said, instantly defending Dean.

Bobby studied him for a moment before leaning under the hood to tinker with something. "He'll either come around or give up on everything," Bobby said, much too calmly for Cas's liking.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Bobby sighed and turned back to Cas once again, wiping his hands on an oil rag. He adjusted his cap as he leaned back against the car. "Way I see it, Sam made him promise him a few things. And Dean's gonna try to fulfill those promises, but he's gonna do it the Winchester way."

"Winchester way?"

Bobby nodded. "He'll either succeed or convince himself he tried hard enough. I say it's the Winchester way 'cause that's the approach John took to raising those boys. Pure dumb luck they turned out like they did."

Cas cocked his head to the side. "Or perhaps they had an exemplary surrogate father who went above and beyond to mold them into who they are," he said, the truth being obvious to him.

"Yeah, I guess maybe I had something to do with it," Bobby conceded, not trying to hide the note of pride that filled his voice. But like I was saying, he's either gonna make good on his promises or he's going to convince himself he did the best he could and then quietly eat his gun."

Cas narrowed his eyes at the old hunter before him. "How can you say such things so calmly?"

"Because Dean's gonna try. He's gonna do his damnedest to do what Sam wanted, and that means time. _If _he gives up, it won't be anytime soon. But I don't see his stubborn ass giving up."

Cas relaxed his shoulders, not realizing until then that they'd hunched up protectively. "He'll call back when he has time," he said, going back to their original discussion.

"Why don't you try calling him on my home phone, invite him for supper tomorrow night?" Bobby asked tentatively. Cas nodded and turned to head inside. "An' make sure Adam's working on the books or doing something productive!" Bobby called over his shoulder as he reentered the house.

Adam was leaning on the kitchen counter, nursing a beer when Cas came back in. His posture was so much like Dean's it stung. "Cas," Adam said grabbing a beer off the counter and handing it to him. Cas twisted the top off and took a long pull from the bottle. The liquid tasted foul to him but if it was good enough for Dean it was good enough for him, so he drank it anyway. "Listen man," Adam was saying. "I'm sorry about earlier. I shouldn't have said that stuff about you just wanting what Dean wants and being his puppet and all that."

Cas blinked at him. "You didn't say I was his puppet."

Adam laughed. "I didn't? Well, I was thinking it, so sorry about that. It's not true."

They both drank their beer for a moment, silent, before Cas turned to him. "No. It is true." He turns his gaze to the floor now, embarrassed. "I am essentially Dean's puppet. It's just that…" he trailed off, trying to find a way to explain the feeling of loss he felt without someone, God or other angels, to guide him and how Dean had filled that void so perfectly, but Adam spoke before he could find the words.

"It's just that you're in love with him," Adam said softly.

Cas's head snapped up at that, his blue eyes boring into Adam's greens, the color of them not even holding a candle to Dean's even though the color was similar. "In love with him," Cas stated flatly.

"Yeah?" Adam asked, seeming suddenly unsure of himself. "I mean. You are, right? In love with Dean?"

Cas opened his mouth to say 'of course not,' but he stopped. Was he in love with Dean? He had given up everything for him. He'd died for him. He had literally defied heaven and fallen in Dean's name. Surely that equated love, in human terms. Cas knew it was devotion, and weren't they really one in the same? "I don't know," he said instead of voicing all the things that had just gone through his mind. "Love is a human thing."

"You _are_ human though," Adam said gently.

Cas smiled ruefully. "Yes, but I haven't quite acclimated yet."

XXX

Dean was half asleep on his threadbare couch when his cell phone started ringing. He groaned and pulled it out of his pocket, only opening his eyes to glance at the caller ID. The screen read 'Bobby' so he flipped it open. "Hello?" he asked gruffly, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Dean," said an all too familiar voice.

Dean stiffened, every muscle in his body tightening with tension. "Cas?" he asked, even though he knew it was him.

"Yes."

"Cas… Why are you calling me?" he asked flat out, too tired to pussyfoot around.

"I wanted to see how you are."

Dean leaned back into the couch, closing his eyes. "You wanted to see how I am? I'm fucking great Cas, how are you?" he asked with a false brightness that had nobody fooled.

"Dean…"

"No, seriously Cas, why are you calling me?" he snapped.

There was silence on the other end of the line, and Dean almost regretted his harsh words. Then Cas spoke. "So you have been avoiding my calls on purpose," he said, a note of sadness tingeing his usually impassive voice.

"Yeah, Cas, I have. Not really up to talking to an angel of the fucking lord after what happened," Dean snarled.

Again, there was silence, but this silence stretched so long that Dean had pulled the phone away from his hear to end the call when he heard Cas say his name, quiet and serious. "Dean. Please… Please remember that I fought _with _you. I tried to help you avoid what happened, I didn't steer you towards it."

He said the words so calmly that Dean was on edge. He wanted to scream, to throw his phone across the room and drive to Bobby's and beat the shit out of Cas. But he also wanted to burst into tears and tell Cas not to pay attention to him, that Dean was a dick when he's hurting the most and that Cas was the easiest target because he cared so damn much.

He managed not to do either. Instead he just pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. "I know," he said softly. "But…" he trailed off, not even sure himself where he was heading. But you remind of the things that took my family from me? But I need to hurt something and you're so breakable? He didn't know, so he let the word hang. "Look, Cas, I was kind of sleeping so… Was there a reason you called?" It wasn't exactly polite, but compared to the earlier conversation Dean was being Miss Manners.

It seemed to be enough for Cas. "Bobby, Adam and I would really like it if you would come to Bobby's for dinner tomorrow night."

Dean frowned and pulled his phone away from his face to check the date. It was Wednesday. Of course it couldn't be Thursday or Friday, when he could truthfully say he had to work at the bar. His tongue darted out to wet his lips before he answered. "Yeah, ok."

Something that sounded a lot like a sigh of relief came over the phone. "Be here at 7," Cas said before hanging up.

Dean flipped his phone shut and dropped it on the floor in front of him. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Dinner. He could do that.

XXX

"We're moving to Sioux Falls," Becky said as she dropped the manuscript on Chuck's lap.

He blinked up at her, jaw slack. "We're doing what now?" he asked slowly.

"We are. Moving to. Sioux Falls," she repeated, enunciating each word slowly.

That's what he thought she'd said, and he said as much. "So, um. Why?"

She dropped down on the couch next to him and stabbed furiously at the manuscript. "Did you not read Swan Song?"

He blinked at her some more. "I had the vision. And I wrote. But… Well, no, I didn't read it."

Becky rolled her eyes. "Of course you didn't. Chuck, don't you realize that we _have _to move to Sioux Falls?"

"Um. No?"

"But that's where Dean and Castiel are!"

More blinking. "I worry about where your brain goes."

She sighed and gave him a look that says he should really get with the program. "Look, I know when we met I was all about the Wincest. But that was before I read your manuscripts post No Rest For The Wicked. I mean, Lazarus Rising just opened my eyes to Destiel, that's what I'm calling it by the way, clever huh?" Chuck opened his mouth to comment, but Becky was already moving on. "Besides, Swan Song, well it sort of sunk the good ship Wincest anyway," she finished, a frown marring her face. "I mean, with Sam gone now and everything."

When it was apparent that she was finished, Chuck spoke up. "I'm still lost. I don't understand why we have to move to Sioux Falls."

Becky grinned at him, her crazy, fan girl grin that always managed to creep Chuck out, even though he was pretty sure he was in love with her. "Duh! We're going to get them together!"

"Oh. Uh. Ok," Chuck said uncertainly.

Becky clapped her hands together excitedly, before suddenly taking a very serious expression. "Listen honey, while we're on the subject of your manuscript… Why do you insist on spelling it C-A-S-S when his name is spelled C-A-S-T-I-E-L:? There's only one S there, so shouldn't it be C-A-S?"

Chuck calmly went back to his default setting of blinking at her with a dazed expression.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: A thousand pardons for me please! I am so sorry I took so long to get this chapter to you guys. I had really bad writer's block, and I actually haven't even thoroughly checked this for errors I'm so excited to get it to you guys subscribed to it. So feel free to point any out to me. Hopefully I won't take so long with chapter 4. Always thanks for reading, subscribing, favoriting, and reviewing.**

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><p>Dean was coming to dinner. Dean had actually agreed to come to dinner. As Cas peeled potatoes over the sink he couldn't keep the small smile off his face. Dean was coming to dinner.<p>

"What're you so smiley about?" Adam asked as he came up next to him at the sink to wash a head of lettuce for the salad.

Cas deliberately relaxed his face. "Nothing," he said with a shrug.

Adam smirked at him. "Yeah ok, I'm sure it's got nothing to do with a certain Dean Winchester coming over tonight."

Cas sighed, keeping his eyes on the potato in his hand instead of Adam's face. "I don't understand why you are pursuing this conversation," he said tiredly.

"Well," Adam said as he grabbed a large bowl that he began shredding the lettuce into. "First of all, if I don't try to force you to talk about it, no one will. Also, you're pretty much the only friend I have now Cas. I mean, Bobby's great and all but he's more of a grouchy father figure and Dean's… Well, Dean's not exactly the friendliest person lately. So that pretty much leaves you."

Cas looked at Adam for a moment, his face the picture of concentration. "I'm uncertain as to whether I should be flattered or offended," he finally said.

Adam seemed to ponder it for a moment. "Flattered. I could totally avoid you, but I don't."

"Well, when you put it that way," Cas replied with a shrug.

"Back to my point though. You gotta figure out your feelings for Dean," he said as he finished shredding the lettuce. He set the bowl aside and grabbed a second peeler to help Cas with the potatoes.

"Why?" Cas asked.

Adam glanced at him, and eyebrow cocked. "So that, if you love him, which, by the way, I'd put money on those odds, you can do something about it."

Cas smiled ruefully, scraping the skin off his potato with more force than he needed. "Even if I do love him there would be no sense in trying to do something about it. I can never have him," he said simply.

"Why not? I thought Dean slept with anything that catches his interest, gender be damned? You being a guy shouldn't bother him."

"It's not about my vessel…" he trailed off, remembering it wasn't his vessel anymore, it was his body. "About _me_ being male. It's about me being me."

"You should at least _talk_-"

"Why? Dean made it abundantly clear when I spoke to him last night that he has no interest in even being my friend. There's no sense in trying to be more."

Adam stared at him for a long time before finally turning away, and the conversation was dropped.

XXX

Dean had barely even clocked in before April noticed something was more wrong than usual with him.

"Dean, honey, sit down at the counter, I'll get you some coffee," she said after taking one look at him.

"You aren't paying me to drink coffee April," he half-heartedly resisted. She glared at him for a moment before he obediently sat on one of the stools at the counter. While she grabbed him a mug and filled it with coffee he realized that her stern glare was an almost exact match for Ellen's, and his stomach flip-flopped painfully at the memories of the elder Harvelle.

He took a sip of the warm drink without bothering to add sugar, he liked it black. "Now," April said sternly. "You want to tell me what's wrong?"

Dean glanced around the diner. There was an older man sitting near the window, reading the morning's paper and nursing a mug, but otherwise the place was empty. "It's nothing," he said as he turned back to her.

She arched an eyebrow. "Now Dean I know you're not the happiest fellow ever come through that door, but you're worse off today. Maybe you'll feel better if you talk about it."

He resisted the urge to sigh and roll his eyes. Talking about stuff wasn't his thing, it was Sam's. He quickly forced all thoughts of Sam into a corner of his mind before slamming the door shut on them. April was going to get it out of him one way or another, he may as well do it on his terms.

"I'm going to see some family tonight," he said, figuring that was the safest way to word it. He wasn't technically lying, Adam was his half-brother, and Bobby may as well be his Dad.

"Well what's so bad about that?" she asked him.

He shrugged before taking another drink of coffee. "Lot of bad memories are gonna be dredged up tonight. Things I'd rather not think about."

"Isn't that all the more reason to go see them though? They're your family. And the bad memories? They're there even if you're not thinking about them directly. So isn't it better to suffer through them with people that care about you?" She said it all gently, like she could see how fragile Dean was, and he figured, maybe she could.

He ran a hand through his hair and drained the rest of the coffee. "Yeah, I guess you're right," he conceded.

She smiled. "'Course I'm right. Now get to work, I ain't paying you to drink coffee," she said with a wink.

Dean felt his lips quirk up into a genuine smile. Small, but genuine. "Yes ma'am," he replied as he got to his feet and got to work.

XXX

Cas carefully pulled the pie out of the oven, glancing at a clock as he did it. Dean would be there soon. He turned to set the pie on a cooling rack when something caught his eye out the window. It was a ray of the swiftly setting sun, glaring off the chrome grill of the impala.

His heart sank. He'd completely forgotten about the impala. He plopped the pie on the rack and hurried out of the kitchen, going into Bobby's living room where he and Adam were sitting on the couch, drinking beer and watching the news.

"I need someone to move the impala for me," he said.

They both looked up at him, surprised, but Adam spoke first. "Why?"

"Because Dean will be here soon and with my terrible driving skills I would drive into the house."

"There's plenty of room behind it for Dean to park though," Adam said, clearly confused.

Cas opened his mouth, planning to explain that Dean didn't need to see the reminder of his life with Sam just sitting there in Bobby's driveway, but Bobby held up a hand. "I'll move it, where are the keys?"

Cas let out a sigh of relief as he dug the keys out of his pocket, tossing them underhanded to the old man. "Thank you Bobby," he said earnestly.

Bobby just nodded as he left to move the car. Cas turned his attention back to Adam, who was looking at him with a peculiar look. "Dean shouldn't have to see a giant reminder of Sam." Cas said as an explanation.

"Yeah, I got that. It's just that you're so worried about safeguarding Dean's feelings."

"Is there something wrong with that?"

"No. It's just who's going to safeguard yours?"

XXX

After Dean got out of his post-work shower, he unexpectedly found himself staring into his closet, unsure of what to wear as if he were a fifteen year old girl getting ready for her first date.

He shook his head and grabbed a random green t-shirt, yanking it on. It's not as if he had anyone to impress, it was just going to be himself, Bobby, Adam, and Cas.

The thought of Cas made him feel like shit for the way he'd been treating the ex-angel. He had his reasoning, but he still knew it was wrong. The guy had given up the only life he'd ever known to help him, and Dean couldn't even be civil. His thoughts turned to that awful future Zachariah had shown him, and the drugged out former angel it had held. It was easy to forget how close Cas already was to that, having already taken the plunge to humanity.

He pushed that train of thought from his mind as he pulled his jeans on. Lingering on it now would do nothing, he would just have to make an effort to not let that happen.

With that in mind he grabbed his keys and headed for Bobby's.

XXX

For the first few minutes of dinner, no one really says anything. The air is filled with the sound of clinking silverware at first, and then everyone's too busy sampling the dishes to make small talk. Bobby, eventually, speaks up.

"How's the job at the diner?"

"It's good. My boss, April, she's pretty great," Dean responded.

"I know her, she's a good woman. She'll try to mother hen you if you ain't careful though."

Dean laughed. "Trust me, I know. She's already taken me under her wing."

Bobby laughs at that and they continue the meal, small talk flowing easily between Bobby, Dean, and Adam.

Cas chose to remain mostly silent, only speaking if he was directly involved by someone else. He could see Dean was actually enjoying himself and he didn't want to speak up and ruin it. But as it turns out, Adam's the one that does it.

"So Dean, listen…" he starts off, his tone clearly indicating that he was going to say something Dean probably wasn't going to here. Cas tense, and he could see Dean do the same across the table. "I really think I should learn how to defend myself, y'know, learn how to shoot and throw a good punch, things like that."

Cas watched as Dean's lips formed a thin line. "I don't want you to become a hunter Adam," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

But Adam proved he was truly a Winchester when he did anyway. "Dean, it's not about me becoming a hunter. I don't want that. But I'm in this life anyway because of who I am. I mean, I was killed by a ghoul that time, remember? And maybe if Dad had told me the truth about the world and taught me how to protect myself I wouldn't have died. And maybe my mom wouldn't have either," he added, his voice going soft and quiet.

Cas could see that Adam's mentioning of his mother had struck a chord in Dean. Dean sighed in defeat. "Yeah. Ok. I'll teach you how to protect yourself."

Adam grinned triumphantly. "Thanks Dean."

"We'll have to do it Saturday afternoons before my shift at the bar, I'm working or sleeping basically all the other times."

"That's completely fine with me."

Dean nodded and finished his last bite of meatloaf. "This food was really good," he said to Adam.

"Cas cooked most of it, I just helped a little."

Dean and Cas's eyes met over the table and there was a moment of silence before Bobby spoke again, not seeming to notice the tension between them.

"You'd get good meals like this more often if you'd show your face around here occasionally, ya idgit."

Cas looked down at his place, feeling guilty. He assumed Dean never came around because he didn't want to deal with Cas, the constant reminder of the things that had taken his brother away from him. He cleared his throat and stood. "I'll go get the pie," he said, not making eye contact with Dean as he quickly exited the small dining room in favor of the kitchen.

He braced himself against the sink, suddenly finding that he was filled with this incredible sadness. Despair, he realized after a moment. He felt it before, when he'd believed the world was going to end, but then it had been a proper emotion, but now? Why should he feel despair. _Because Dean hates me_, his brain supplied for him.

"Hey, you ok?" a voice asked behind him? He turned, half expecting Dean for some reason, but Adam was standing there, looking concerned. Cas swallowed and licked his lips.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Will you help me carry the plates of pie in there?" he asked, turning back to the pie. He grabbed a large knife and began cutting it into large, even pieces.

"Yeah, sure," Adam said, but Cas could hear a note of hesitation. Adam knew him remarkably well, and he wasn't fooled by Cas's lie. But thankfully he didn't press the matter.

"C'mon," he said, handing Adam two of the plates and pasting on a fake smile. "Let's eat this before it gets cold."

XXX

"Cas."

The ex-angel in question jumped, sloshing dirty dishwater over the side of the sink. He looked over his shoulder to see Dean standing behind him. He barely contained the look of surprise.

"Listen… Come have a beer with me outside," Dean said, his hands shoved in his jean's pockets as if he were nervous.

Cas bit his lip. He really didn't want to be subject to Dean's anger but he didn't want to deny time spent alone with Dean. He looked guilty back at the sink. "But the dishes…"

"I'll finish them," Adam said as he came around Dean. Cas blinked but obediently shucked the yellow cleaning gloves off, passing them to Adam. While he did that Dean grabbed two beers out of the fridge and headed outside. "Go get him tiger," Adam said with an obnoxious wink. Cas shot him a glare but followed Dean outside.

XXX

Dean doesn't really know why he's invited Cas to share a beer with him on Bobby's porch. Before today he hadn't even wanted to be friendly towards him, and now he was having friendly beers with him? Completely alone?

Right now they're sitting in amicable silence, sipping their beers and staring out at the night sky from the comfort of Bobby's porch steps. And maybe it's the peacefulness of the moments that makes Dean speak without thinking his words through, because he's talking without meaning to.

"Why'd you leave me in my coffin?" he asks, surprising them both. It's not like he hasn't wondered this before, but he hasn't spent long hours pondering it's answer either. But now the words are out there, hanging in the air.

Cas looks at him, confused. "What?"

"When you yanked me out of Hell," Dean clarified. "I woke up in my coffin. I mean, what if I hadn't been able to dig myself out, and I had suffocated in there?" he asked, suddenly realizing how easily it could've gone down that way. He shivered before going on. "That kind of would've negated your whole bringing me back thing," he said, shrugging.

"I didn't have a choice," Cas said, staring at the beer bottle in his hand, idly scraping at the label with his thumbnail. "I would've gone to you immediately if I had been able."

Dean studied him. "What stopped you?" he asked, his voice curious, not accusing.

Cas looked hesitant to tell him. "I was recuperating. My time spent in Hell took a toll on me, I had to heal myself," he said quietly, still staring at his bottle instead of looking at Dean.

Dean's lips parted in surprise as he processed Cas's words. "Your time in… Cas? What happened when you pulled me out of Hell? What really happened?"

Again, Cas hesitated. "Dean… Are you sure you want the truth?" Cas looked at him then, uncertainty written clearly in his blue eyes.

"I never want the truth Cas," Dean said with a mirthless laugh. "But I always need it."

Cas nodded, his gaze darting away to land back on his bottle for a moment before he seemed to think better of it, looking back into Dean's eyes. He licked his lips before starting his story.

"First of all, you should know I went in alone." Dean's eyes widened in surprise. "And I was there for seven years, Hell time. Hell is far more vast than a human can fathom, even one who served time there. I know I led you to believe that the whole garrison invaded Hell, and I just happened to be the one that reached you first, but that isn't true.

I arrived in Hell, but it was impossible to know where you were, you were just a single soul in an ocean of millions, and later I would come to realize they were hiding and guarding you. Can you imagine if a Winchester became a demon? You especially, because you carry so much anger. You had already fulfilled their needs in breaking the seal, but they wanted more.

So I had to search for you, and I encountered many demons who were not happy to see an angel invading their dominion. And that was before I even reached you. You were essentially surrounded by demons for what amounts to miles. I had to cut a swath through them to get to you, and demons are much harder to kill on their own turf, so to speak.

But then I reached you. You hadn't even noticed what was going on around you, you were so focused on the soul on the rack in front of you. You were doing unspeakable things to the soul, but like you hadn't noticed me I barely noticed it.

Dean, even drenched in blood you were the most beautiful soul I had ever laid eyes on. I don't mean physically. I could see your physical form, but it was your soul I was looking at."

"What about my eyes?" Dean asked, his voice inexplicably hoarse. Cas blinked, pulled from his story.

"What?"

"My eyes. Were they green or were they black?"

"Dean you are not a demon."

"Answer the question," Dean growled.

Cas stared at him for a long moment, and Dean thought he was going to refuse. "Green," he finally said. "Your eyes were green."

Dean realized his entire body had tensed and he forced himself to relax. "Ok. There's something I don't understand though. Why did they send you? I mean, I've always been under the impression that you're a young angel or something. Why did the send Michael, he's the one who wanted to ride me, after all."

"I'm not a young angel, we were all created at more or less the same time. I was of a low rank though. As you know there isn't much lore about me. 'Castiel, the angel of Thursday' is about all you'll get. Raising the Michael Sword was supposed to be what you would call my big break, the thing I would come to be known for, after the Winchester Gospels. Of course, at the time, I thought it would be for raising the Righteous Man who would stop the apocalypse, but we all know how that turned out."

They sit in silence for a while, Dean taking in Cas's story and Cas sipping his beer. "Seven years?" Dean finally asks. Cas just nods. "You wandered around Hell, looking for me, for seven years?"

"I looked for you for three years. I found you during the fourth. The rest of the time was spent killing my way to you."

Dean whistled. "At least they weren't torturing you. That's something, I don't think I could take the idea of you being tortured because of me." Cas made a little noise resembling a snort and Dean's gaze shot to him. "What?" he asked quickly.

Cas smiled ruefully. "It is nothing of import."

Dean turned until he was directly facing Cas. He ducked his head to catch Cas's gaze. "Yes. It is. What aren't you telling me here?"

Cas sighed. "I don't understand your need for the truth."

"Cas," Dean demanded sharply.

Cas glared at him. "I wasn't tortured because of you. In Hell."

Dean sucked in a breath. "What does that mean?"

"I assume you remember Jimmy Novak, the man whose body is now mine? And I assume you remember the circumstances of your meeting."

"You'd been pulled back to Heaven for re-education," Dean said quietly, his throat tightening painfully around the words. He could see where this was going.

Cas nodded. "Re-education is a thinly veiled euphemism for torture."

Dean was silent for a moment. "Time in Hell moves differently. I bet it moves differently in Heaven too. So how long?"

"Twenty-three years, four months," Cas answered instantly.

Dean looked down at his empty beer bottle. He was going to need another because his night, no, his _life _had just taken an unexpected turn.


End file.
